Shinobu's Desperate Struggle
by Fanfiction of the Dead
Summary: What if Travis accepted Shinobu's offer so that he could reach the top-ranked assassin even faster, and Shinobu had to battle Ryuji, Margaret, and Vladimir?


**Shinobu's Desperate Struggle**

**Prologue**

She leaned closer.

"I can kill more assassins for you. Whatever ... my master ... wants."

It was a tempting offer, Travis had to admit. His own little private killer who he could send to hunt down other killers. A miniature UAA all to himself... no. He sure as hell wasn't going to have a disciple, but having someone else do the grunt work for a change sounded pretty sweet. According to the game's script, he was supposed to tell Shinobu to shove off, and she would leave and not be seen again for the rest of the game. Shinobu leaned even closer, lips puckered, hands on his chest and driving him down into a kiss.

Travis grimaced. Now he pushed her away and said, "I feel like that pervy teacher in a porn."

He didn't.

It took a good ten seconds and a fancy tongue maneuver before she let up. A grin invaded his lips.

"Well now, how can I say no to that?" He reached and gripped her left breast. "But get one thing straight Shinobu. Even if you are legal," he said firmly, "I've got enough problems to deal with without adding a romantic love triangle to the list. You help me clear the way to the title fight with that Pizza Bat bastard, and we'll see where we go from there. And not a moment sooner."

The ninja slash samurai assassin girl stared at him, her cheeks turning a different shade of brown. Despite his sharp killer senses, he watched Shinobu moan her next few words before he remembered that he was still gripping her breast.

"Yes ... yes Master," she caterwauled. Travis released her and slid his legs out from under her. The last thing he needed was an underage sidekick, let alone a lovesick one. And he wondered where she'd gotten a replacement limb from; he _had_ cut off one of her arms, hadn't he? The phone rang before the situation got any more awkward.

Surprise, surprise. "Hello, Travis? It's me!"

He picked up the phone, even though it was supposed to ring a few seconds earlier. "Hey Sylvia."

"I am sending the next fight to your map."

"Yeah, I'm getting the fax right now. So explain something to me Sylvia..."

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Clearly I've just broken the game flow by not following the sequence of events here, right?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I'm going to follow up on your little gambit," he said with a smug grin. "I'm sending Shinobu to fight my next match for me while I work out for a bit. Want to get in as many reps as I can so I can judo-toss that sunavabitch straight out his office window."

"Oh," she drawled, "so you picked the Bad Karma option? Used the Homebrew channel, didn't you?"

He frowned, neck jerking forward. "The hell are you talking about?"

"Oh? Nevermind. It is... not important. Tell Shinobu that her next opponent will be waiting for her... oh."

"What is it?" Alerted by her pause, Travis spun over to the couch where his latest makeout session had just taken place. It was vacant. Not even an ass-print or a lock of hair. Spotless. Probably even cleaner than it was before they'd sat down on it. "The fuck? She's gone!"

He glanced at his fax machine, equally surprised to see that there was a piece of paper sticking out, neatly cut by what he guessed was a samurai sword. He put the phone back to his ear. "She's a fast one alright, even faster then I remember. Hope she doesn't challenge me for my rank or I might be in trouble."

"Ooh," Sylvia cooed, "Don't count yourself out, Travis. I'd say you still have the edge in... speed."

"Shut up. Anyway, why don't you explain to me how this works. Shinobu kills fighters for me and I still get boosted up the rankings?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Why is that? That doesn't make any goddamned sense."

A beeping noise. The party on the other end hung up. Travis growled and threw the phone back onto the receiver, perfectly. The next fight was already up and paid for. He doubted Sylvia would have forked over any tips about the next assassin anyway. Travis took a long moment to study his apartment.

Rankings fights usually lasted about an hour. Time to watch some porn.

Right after he picked up a dictionary and figured out what the hell a 'caterwaul' was.

!

ooo

!

Killing time.

Shinobu approached the cliff-side where Travis's opponent, and now hers, was supposed to be waiting. Part of being an assassin was having high stamina. Part of it was having a cheat device that allowed a person to have an infinite stamina gauge; not much difference really. She'd come here on foot, but her opponent was sitting on a motorbike, fashioned after a dragon. His pseudonym was Ryuji, and he was an assassin from somewhere in the East. She'd heard the name before during her trip to Asia, when she'd participated in the championship and won her belt.

Funny, so this was why 'Ryuji' had dropped from the competition and traveled to the United States to get his green card.

Great. Now the middle-aged assassin from the east has a motorcycle license, and I don't have a learner's permit. Shinobu hated being a nineteen-year old high school dropout.

The scenery was beautiful. The cliff they were on basked in orange sunlight. Hardly any wind, and the ocean glimmered below. She'd entered the cliffside from a cavern that led back to Santa Destroy, and judging from her surroundings, so had Ryuji. Damn. He'd gotten there before her, and propped his bike in wait. Now, as the bike rolled forward, Shinobu noticed how large the battleground was. Big enough for three assassins to battle each other on their own bikes.

Small enough for one good hit to launch the unlucky one straight off the cliff.

_So_ moe'. Shinobu drew her blade from its sheath and took her combat stance, meeting the eyes of her opponent. She had only been involved in a few rankings fights since losing to Master, but she'd still learned from her first and brief list of kills. Assassins rarely exchanged words. In fact, it was against their job description to even spare them. There was no sense in letting the target even know you were there, even if it was supposed to be a _battle_.

Yet her Master always did so, she knew. It was part of his superior fighting style. She planned to train herself the same way, do everything he did.

"You the seventh rank?" she called out.

The Asian biker waited a few seconds before nodding. She thought she heard a small grunt, but then again, she was also hearing the grumble of a bike engine.

"Looks like today's your unlucky day. Sorry, but you're not leaving this place as anything more than a memory."

The man, who she noticed carried a Japanese flag on the front of his bike, shook his head. His right hand revved his dragon motorcycle with two disagreeing groans.

"What kind of flowers should I leave on your grave?"

The motorcycle charged at her. Her eyes widened as a pink object lanced outward from the man's side, racing outward and growing in length. He was only inches from her before she saw his weapon, a beam katana. She was wrong. The katana gained shape and transformed into... an energy...

...dragon?

Next: The Battle for 7th! Ryuji **vs** Shinobu!


End file.
